Transition
by NeuroticMusing
Summary: What could have happened in between episodes two and three. There's gotta be an explanation, right? Evolving Vince/Orwell


**Hey Capers, I've got a new story for you. So, I was thinking the other day: something had to have happened between Vince and Orwell in between episodes 2 and 3. I know it can't be just me, but something sparked that wasn't there before. This is my take on what could have happened.**

**I do not own The Cape.**

_**Transition**_

Orwell never let anyone in. The whole reason why she took the pseudonym was so that she could be left alone; never to be bothered. Never having to worry about pleasing people, never having to worry about whether people would like her for who she is. It was easy being introverted, and she couldn't fathom why she wanted anyone else in her life.

Now though, she had allowed herself to get close to someone. The blogger had begun developing feelings for her partner that not even she understood. He was _married _for crying out loud, what were her chances? Over the past few months it was only natural that she bonded with the vigilante. What wasn't natural though, was just how _well _they've bonded. Orwell thought that it would be easy to keep a simple, platonic relationship between the two of them. She didn't realize how wrong she was. The way the blogger looked at her partner; she could see an admirable man. Every moment they spent together, even a harmless visit to discuss new tactics to foil ARK, seemed like something else all together. Orwell thought it was just her, she had herself convinced that he wanted nothing more than a friend out of her. She was sure of it…

Vince thought rather differently than his partner was led to believe. He was well aware of the blooming feelings he had for the blogger. It was rather vague, but he knew that it was there. The vigilante didn't quite understand why Orwell was helping him, it was all apart of her mysterious ways. He often wondered how he could get her to open up more. In fact, this was how he began to develop feelings for the brunette. It started out innocent; he wanted a partner that for one, trusted him, and two, he trusted. Therefore, her secret ways just had to go. Little by little he offered to spend more time with Orwell. Many nights they sat up drinking coffee, just listening to each other cry and moan about everything that could go wrong. The more he learned about his partner, the more he began to appreciate her. He wanted a friend out of her, and ended up getting something he didn't think was possible. Was it okay to call it a crush?

The two of them went through their daily lives trying to push down their mutual feelings. Orwell knew a little too well that it wasn't right to bottle things inside, but in this case, it was necessary. Vince didn't know what to do either, he figured it would be best just to wait it out, maybe things would settle on their own. Until then, though, the two were stuck with hiding their feelings. It often was evident on their faces, but neither of them deemed it more than wishful thinking. By the time the vigilante and blogger had gotten back from their escapade to save Secretary Portman from being poisoned by Cain, they were exhausted as ever. Orwell decided to stay with Vince for the night, just in case he decided to do something incredibly stupid again. The blogger stayed awake for quite sometime, working on her blogs. Her partner tried to keep up with her energy, but he ended up crashing about four hours before she did.

In the morning, Orwell woke up to the smell of coffee, and the faint sound of a TV in the background. Vince hated the beat-up TV in his hideout, unfortunately, it was all the Carnival could give him at the time. At least it's _some _form of entertainment. The blogger got up from her blow up mattress and padded over to her partner. The vigilante looked up at the brunette and gave her a light grin. "Morning, Orwell."

"Morning," she murmured sleepily, sitting down next to him with a gentle plop.

"You sleep well?" Vince prodded gently, not breaking his eye contact with her.

"Mhm," she replied with a yawn. "I just need some coffee."

"Help yourself, you know your way to the kitchen," the corners of the Cape's mouth twitched into a smirk. "Unless you're too tired to remember where that is?"

"Shut up, Vince," Orwell responded, lightly whacking him in the arm.

"Right, your majesty," Vince teased with a mock bow.

The blogger groaned. "Is this National _Pick on Orwell Day_?"

"Uh, hold on, let me check the Calendar," the vigilante started, getting up from the couch.

"Well now that you're up, go get me my coffee," Orwell stretched her leg out to shove her partner away with a foot.

Vince turned around and looked back at his partner with a smirk. "And why should I?"

"Because it's _my _National Holiday. Now go," the brunette waved a hand. "Fetch me my coffee," she replied with a teasing smile.

"I kinda screwed my own self with that, didn't I?" the vigilante asked, rubbing the back of his head.

"Just a little bit," Orwell began, grinning.

Vince looked at his partner and then over at his mini kitchen. A sigh escaped from his lips. "Alright," he passed her a grin. "I'll be right back."

"Good choice," the brunette chuckled.

This was just the nature of their relationship. It could be passed off as completely platonic, or it could be something more. Neither of them knew exactly what to call it, neither of them knew what was acceptable. One particular day though, things began to make just a _little _more sense.

It was mid afternoon on a drizzly Saturday. Nothing new going on, just Vince and Orwell spending the day together. The brunette blogger sat curled up on her partner's couch, typing away at her laptop. The vigilante was sprawled out on the opposite side of the couch, flipping through the pages of his Cape comic. He was turning the pages pretty loud, due to his boredom. Orwell tried to pay no mind to her partner, but as the page turns got _louder _and _louder_, she lost her calm. "Do you _have _to turn those pages so loud?"

Vince picked his head up from the side of the couch, setting his comic book on his chest. He smiled a bit sheepishly. "Sorry about that," he murmured.

The brunette pinched her forehead, massaging her fingers into her temples. She didn't say a word, just returned to her work.

The Cape's brows furrowed in a little confusion, but mostly in concern. He sat up and brought his knees to his chest as he looked over at his partner. "You alright?"

Orwell moved her eyes from her computer to glance over at the vigilante. "Fine," she said dismissively.

Vince sighed. "Come on, Orwell," his eyes pleaded with hers, a light grin settling onto his features. "Am I really that annoying?"

The blogger gave her partner a faint smirk.

"On second thought… don't answer that," the Cape began with a chuckle.

Orwell's smirk faded slightly as she turned her attention back to her keyboard.

"How can you keep typing like that? Don't your fingers ever get tired?" Vince asked, keeping his eyes on the brunette rapid fingers as they clacked across her keyboard accordingly.

"I've been doing this for years," she started in a monotone. "They tend to cramp up when I'm tired but I try not to pay attention to it."

Vince took a minute to look his partner over. As always she looked a little conflicted. When he spoke out to her, it was slightly above a whisper, "how about we get you away from the computer for a while?"

"No. I need to finish up this blog post," Orwell replied defensively.

"The blog post can wait," the vigilante took his hand from his knee to close her laptop. "You can use a serious break."

"I'll be fine," the blogger spoke softly.

"Sorry, but," Vince grabbed his partner's laptop and got up from the couch. "I don't believe you."

Orwell watched as the Cape walked past her and placed her laptop next to the rest of her things. She sighed and raised to the balls of her feet. "Vince, seriously."

"What? I'm being serious," Vince gave her a concerned look. "You need to take time for Orwell."

The brunette sighed hastily, folding a lock of hair behind her ear. "What do you have in mind?"

"We can head out to the diner and get some lunch?" the vigilante offered with a smile.

"Are you buying?" Orwell asked, a faint smirk plastered on her face.

"Sure will," Vince grinned.

"Alright, Vince. You win," the brunette said with a shy smile.

This was all it took to set off the little spark that wasn't there before. All it took to make them realize that _maybe_, just maybe, the other felt what they felt.

The vigilante and blogger took a seat in a booth, both sitting on opposite sides of the booth. They talked and talked, their playful banter quickly turning into gentle flirting.

When Orwell realized what was going on, she mentally took a step back. She was flirting with a _married _man. Maybe she should sleep with him too, that would really make things awkward!

Vince watched his partner in concern. She looked like she was having a battle with herself, and her inner self was winning. "Everything okay?"

The brunette picked her head up and met with his eyes, a little dazed. "Yeah. Why wouldn't it be?"

"Well you just look a little distracted," the vigilante began.

"Oh, I'm alright," Orwell gave her partner a little grin.

Vince chuckled. "I think I know something that will make everything better, no matter what."

The brunette arched an eyebrow. "Really? And what's that?"

"You'll see," the Cape rose to his feet, causing his partner to look back up at him. "I'll be right back."

Orwell settled back in her seat and sighed. She crossed her legs and placed a hand over top of her knee as she watched the vigilante from a far. He went up to the bar and talked to the cashier. The teenage girl that stood at the register looked back at the brunette blogger with a tiny grin. Orwell's forehead crinkled in confusion as she watched the teenager disappear into the kitchen. The blogger sighed; what was Vince up to now? The next thing she knew, the teenager came back to the vigilante, sporting two cups of what looked like… chocolate milkshakes? Did they even have chocolate milkshakes in diners? Orwell shook her head a bit; apparently they did.

Vince handed a few bills over to the teenaged cashier and was on his way back to the booth in seconds. He placed a glass in front of his partner once he got to the booth, grinning a bit.

"Is this what I think it is?" Orwell asked with a little smile.

"If you're thinking chocolate milkshake, you'd be right," the vigilante said as he took his seat across from his partner.

The blogger took the spoon from her ring of silverware and placed it inside the cup. "Thanks, Vince."

"See, I told you it would make everything better," Vince grinned, turning to his plate of food to grab a french-fry. He then dipped the fry in his milkshake, getting a weird look from his partner.

"Did you just _dip _your french-fry into your milkshake?" Orwell asked in disbelief.

"Sure did," the vigilante mirrored his previous action for a second time. "It's really good," he said as he popped another chocolate coated fry into his mouth.

"Um, alright then," the brunette lifted her cup up and began to sip from it.

"Oh come on, Orwell. Try it," Vince began with a grin.

Orwell made a disgusted face. "No way."

"Please? I promise it's good," the vigilante said in a much softer, albeit pleading tone.

The brunette blogger sighed. "Alright," she began warily. "But if I throw up, it's all your fault."

"I'll take full blame for any vomiting," Vince chuckled lightly.

Orwell smiled before she picked up a french-fry from her plate. She bit down on her bottom lip as she tentatively dipped it in her chocolate milkshake. When she popped it into her mouth, a little smile formed with it. "Mmm, this is actually pretty good."

The vigilante settled back in his seat with a satisfied grin. "See, I told you!"

"Yeah, yeah. Eat your fries before I get to them first," the brunette smirked as she dipped yet another fry in her milkshake.

Vince couldn't help but smile at his partner. She may be petite, but she can surely pack in food. It was really cute, he couldn't deny that.

By the time Orwell got to the end of her milkshake, the vigilante noticed she had a bit of milkshake on the tip of her nose. He grinned back at her, and the blogger just looked confused. "What's so funny?" She asked.

"You've got a little bit of chocolate on your nose," the Cape said with a chuckle.

Orwell turned her head as she felt herself beginning to blush. She took the napkin that was tucked in her lap and wiped at her nose. She then looked up at the vigilante. "Better?"

"Yep," Vince replied, grinning widely. "You got it."

This only made the blogger blush even more. "Thanks."

When she went to go home that night, the time that they spent together stayed with the both of them in more ways than one. Vince had learned quite a bit of his partner's likes and dislikes; he for one, was happy to see her smile.

For once in her life, Orwell had finally felt like she had a friend. Not just a friend; a confidant, a partner, maybe even one day she could have something more.

The Cape looked up from his comic book and saw the brunette sling her laptop bag around her shoulders. The last thing he remembered was her sitting down on the couch next to him. He placed the book on an empty cushion and called out to her. "You going home?"

"I am," she nodded, rubbing her hands against her dark wash jeans.

Vince glanced down at his watch. It _had _gotten late. "Where did the time go?"

Orwell smirked. "Apparently down the drain," she stepped closer to her partner and gave him a hug.

The vigilante stood up to hug the brunette back. Maybe it was their imaginations, but the hug seemed to mean much more than it had a few days before. "Let me know you got home okay?"

"Like always," the blogger said softly, breaking their hug.

Vince sat back down on the couch as his partner turned away from him and made her way out of the hideout. He sat with a smile on his face before he turned back to read more of _The Cape_.

**Well? How was it? **


End file.
